Destiny
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t convenient, but it was beautiful. They fell in love that night on the roof, now the only thing left is for Warren to choose his destiny over what’s safe. RoguexAngel. Oneshot!


**Title: **Destiny

**Author: **IndigoNight

**Summary: **It wasn't planned, it wasn't convenient, but it was beautiful. They fell in love that night on the roof, now the only thing left is for Warren to choose his destiny over what's safe.

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **RoguexAngel

**Disclaimer: **I do not own X-Men or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

**Spoilers: **Nope, not really

**Author's Note: **I totally love Rogue and Warren, so here's another fic for them. Just to clear a few things up: 1. Rogue got the cure, but recently broke up with Bobby anyway, 2. Warren is not really encouraging what they're doing on the roof; he's just really innocent and not thinking that at all. So, read, review.

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Rogue hugged her sweater closer as the chilly evening wind blew. It was cold on the roof of Xavier's Institute For Gifted Youngsters. Absently she drank in the beauty of the clear twilight, deeply lost in thought.

"What are you doing up here?" She jumped at the voice; not having realized anyone was on the roof with her. But if that had been a surprise, it was nothing compared to what she saw when she turned around.

He was beautiful. So beautiful that it was nearly a full minute before she remembered to breathe as she just stood there and stared. He was tall, lean but well muscled. He wore nothing but a pair of slightly worn old jeans, his bare chest shimmering with sweat despite the cool climate. But most breath taking were the huge, pearly wings spread out behind him. They shone in the brilliant sunset that haloed him, making him look unbearably like the angel he was.

"Hello?" he asked uncertainly, frowning when she didn't respond.

She shook herself and blushed scarlet. "S-sorry," she stammered, but found she had completely forgotten his question, "What?"

"I asked what you were doing up here," he repeated.

"Oh, I, um, nothing," she fumbled, "Nothing, just thinking. I'm sorry, I'll go."

He laughed, apparently amused by how fluttered she was. "Its ok," he told her, flashing a smile that out shone the sun, "I was just wondering."

"Oh, ok then, I-I guess I'll stay," she was blushing even harder now.

"Ok," he agreed. And so there they stood, both carefully avoiding each other's eye in embarrassment.

"I'm Warren," he said finally, mercifully breaking the silence, "Your Rogue, right?"

"Actually, not anymore," she informed him, showing him her ungloved hand, "Its just Marie now."

"Oh, well, nice to actually meet you, Marie," now he was blushing, but not nearly as much as she had been moments before.

"Yeah," she agreed, mentally cursing herself for her oh-so-witty reply.

"The sunset's nice," Warren said, once again trying for conversation.

"Very," she agreed again.

"Would you like to watch it with me?" he asked, a bit shyly.

She nodded and sat next to him on the edge of the roof. And so they sat, once more in silence, both shyly sneaking glances at each other.

After some time, the silence was once again broken, this time by Rogue, "So, you fly," she could have jumped off of the roof for making such an idiotic comment, but unable to bare the silence any longer she had had to say something.

"I do," he confirmed.

"I've always wanted to fly," she said, more musing to herself than anything.

"I could take you up," he offered, then added with a blush, "If you wanted."

"Really?" her eyes lit up with the idea.

Smiling he stood and helped her to her feet. "You'll have to hold on to me tightly. We wouldn't want you to fall."  
"Right," she said, her breath already trying to fail her as she nervously stepped closer and awkwardly wrapped her arms around his waist.

Gently he readjusted her grip, wrapped his own arms around her in return, then with a huge down sweep of his powerful wings they were airborne.

There are some things in life that are so unconditionally amazing that not only do they take your breath away, they make it so you don't even have to breathe.

It was astounding, watching the grounds flash away below them as they few, the last golden rays of sunlight dusting the tops of the trees, the early moon, the soft sounds of the world settling down to sleep that you couldn't really hear, but knew were there anyway. But that was nothing to the man holding her.

It was over far too soon as before she even realized it they were landing softly back on the roof.

Reluctantly she let go of him and stepped away, but she was so blown away by what had just happened that she stumbled and almost fell. Warren however, had some great reflexes, something she could add to the mental list of 'great' things about him she was making, and caught her.

"Thanks," she breathed, suddenly, electrically aware of how close they were to each other.

"Your welcome," he said automatically, but his voice slowly died away as their eyes met, and held, for one brief eternity.

Then their lips had met, their bodies crushed together. Somehow they ended up laying on the roof, Warren on top of Rogue, kissing passionately. Their shirts were off before either of them really realized it, but it wasn't something they had to realize, it wasn't something they had to think about it. That night, under the pale twilight moon, it was just so perfect, so right, that they couldn't have stopped if they'd wanted to. It was fate.

He held her gently as he entered her, trying to kiss away the pain. They moved perfectly in time, in a perfectly choreographed dance of something neither could deny. Then, with a final push, he peaked and rolled off of her, laying panting at her side, their hands intertwined.

And once again there was silence on the rooftop. But this silence was different, it was not shy, or awkward. It was a silence that didn't need to be broken, a silence that they could simply lay in, enjoying their tiny piece of heaven for just a little bit longer.

The sun had fully set and the moon was high in the sky before either of them spoke again.

"That was amazing," she whispered to the night.

"Yeah," he agreed articulately, as he slowly sat up and began gathering his clothes.

She sat up too, watching him, his perfect body shining in the moonlight. But she also watched the way he carefully kept his back to her, and the strange, shaky way he moved. She bit her lip as she watched him; all of her happiness leaving her as the moment broke and reality hit her.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you?" she asked, but she knew the answer already. She wasn't an idiot.

He froze, his back to her, half way through putting on his pants. But he didn't answer.

_At least he isn't denying it,_ she thought, holding back a tear. Slowly, numbly, methodically, she gathered her own clothes and got dressed.

He was watching her, though he still hadn't moved, she could feel his eyes following her from under his lashed.

"I guess this is goodbye then," she told him, thankful that her voice didn't tremble… too much.

With that she was gone.

At length he unfroze and slowly sank back onto the roof, staring blankly at the stars.

8

Warren spent a long, sleepless night, plagued with thoughts of her.

He had just gotten out of bed and was staring absently out of his wind when Betsy knocked softly on the door, calling his name before opening it and poking her head in.

"Warren?" she asked. Upon seeing him at the window she knew something was bothering him. Slowly she crossed the room to him, gently shutting the door behind her. He didn't seem to have noticed her yet. "Warren? What's wrong?"  
The clear night had dawned into a dismal, overcast morning, reflecting Warren's mood. He had been so lost in thought that he jumped at her voice and turned to face her hesitantly, but quickly his eyes flickered away again. "I have something I need to talk to you about," he said, his face and voice both speaking plainly of guilt.

"What is it, baby?" she asked, taking his hand and leading him over to sit on the bed with her.

"Well, its more of a confession, actually," he admitted, still unable to properly met her eyes.

He'd been dating Betsy for just over six months now, and he'd always been happy with her. Theirs wasn't the kind of relationship that was desperate, deep, passionate, or any of those things. They had always been relaxed, easygoing, and just comfortable around each other. Betsy was the easiest person to talk to he'd ever met, but she wasn't who he couldn't stop thinking about now.

She watched him intently, patiently waiting for him to get out whatever was on his mind.

"Last night, I… met someone," he dared to glance up at her just long enough to see her reaction.

"Someone…" she trailed off, clearly wanting clarification.

"I slept with her," he answered bluntly.

"Oh," was her only response as she stood from the bed and began to pace back and forth slowly, remaining remarkably calm.

"I'm sorry," Warren said, "I-I don't know what I was thinking. Well, no, that isn't true, I wasn't thinking, I wasn't thinking at all. I shouldn't have, I know. But she was there, and the moon, and… and the flying, and then there was kissing, and I didn't want it to stop, it just felt so good. And it was a mistake, but now I just can't stop thinking about her. It isn't her fault; she didn't know I was dating you. But all last night… I just couldn't stop, every time I closed my eyes, there she was, and…" He was babbling, hopelessly. She just continued to pace.

"Warren," she said at last, "Stop talking."

He stopped. In the silence that then descended over the room he whispered, "I'm sorry."

For a long time she didn't answer, and he watched her cautiously. "You hate me," he said at last, unable to take the silence anymore.

She stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and came back to sit on the bed next to him. "No," she said, shaking her head, and she didn't look mad. She had a sort of detached sorrow in her eyes and the corners of her small smile, but nothing more. "Maybe I should, but I don't."

"You don't?" he repeated in surprise.

She shook her head, "No."

"Oh," Warren frowned slightly, "Then why did you… oh, right, you don't want to hear me talking about her, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean… I wasn't thinking… you probably never want to see me again; I'm so…" he trailed off, watching her again.

A small sound that could have been a laugh escaped her lips to accompany her sad smile. "You're babbling," she informed him. He shut his mouth with a snap. "And you're wrong, that isn't why I told you to shut up. Well, the first part a little, but mostly no."

"Why then?" he asked. It was such a trivial thing, and certainly didn't really matter in comparison to the problem they should have been talking about, but for some reason he couldn't drop it.

"Because I'm not the one you should be telling this to," she told him, "You should be telling this to _her_. Something happened between the two of you that doesn't happen very often, not outside of movies anyway, and I can't compete with that. She's the one for you, I understand that. So go, Warren, go to her, tell her how you feel. I don't hold it against you."

He stared at her in utter surprise for a long minute, but she gave him and encouraging nod, and he smiled back. Leaping to his feet he kissed her on the cheek, and ran out of his room.

He couldn't explain how he knew where her room was, he'd never been there before, but somehow his feet knew the way without his even thinking about it.

He reach what he knew to be the right door and began to frantically pound on it, the words already tumbling through his mind. What to say to her? How to explain?

"Where's the fire kid?" asked a gruff voice behind him.

He whirled, to find Logan scrutinizing him. "Marie, where is she?" he panted.

"Not here," Logan informed him, "She left about an hour ago for the train station."

"What? Why?"  
"She's going back home, to her family."

"No!" Warren yelled.

"What?" Logan demanded, but Warren was already streaking off.

How he got to the train station was blur. Later he decided he had to have flown, but he had no memory of the exact motions at the time. Once there he ran frantically through the crowded station, shoving people this way and that, but not even really realizing they were there.

Once again, there was no way to explain how he knew where to go, he just saw the train, steam billowing out of it as it slowly began to chug into motion.

"No!" he yelled, unconscious of the words that slipped away from his ears as the train's whistle blew. He ran faster, so fast that he was almost flying without his wings.

But not fast enough.

He slowed, skidding to a stop at the edge of the platform, watching as the train faded away out of sight. He had more than half a mind to fly after it, but he didn't. He had lost, and he knew it. He hadn't been fast enough, and now it was too late. She was gone.

As he stood there, alone, at the end of the platform, not noticing the people casting curious glances his way, their chatter fading into the background as the train's steam disappeared.

He closed his eyes, admitting his defeat, and a single raindrop landed on his cheek, a representation of the tears that were strangely absent.

The raindrop was not alone, and in seconds he was drenched, but he didn't notice.

"Warren?" the voice behind him was the last voice he'd expected to hear, and was so surprised that as he turned to face her, he slipped and nearly fell off of the edge of the platform.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as she offered her hand to help him up.

"I… but, I-I thought…" he fumbled, turning from her to where the train had disappeared and back again.

She laughed, shaking her head, "Warren, that wasn't my train."

"Oh," he said.

She waited for him to say more, watching him expectantly. "Did you come here for a reason?" she asked when he didn't continue, "Or is chasing trains just your new hobby?"

"No, I-I wanted to tell you, I, uh, but you shouldn't leave, just 'cause I-"

"I'm not," she told him, "I was already going to leave. I'm no longer a mutant, remember? No boyfriend, few friends, I just don't belong at the Institute anymore," she hesitated for a moment before adding, "I did hope that maybe you'd give me a reason to stay, but…"

"Yes!" Warren said immediately, "Yes! Stay, don't go, please don't go."

"You have a girlfriend," she reminded him, the expression in her eyes that of one who didn't dare to hope.

"Not any more," he told her, "I can't stop thinking about you. All night… Marie, please, don't go, stay with me."

"For how long?" she asked, with a slightly disbelieving snort and a small shake of her head.

"Forever," Warren whispered, "Or as long as you want to," he amended.

Her eyes searched his face for a long, long minute, and he waited, not daring to breathe. Then a smile broke across her lips and she said, "On one condition."

"Anything," he promised without even thinking about it.

"You take me flying again."

He laughed, picking her up and twirling her around, before kissing her passionately. "Everyday," he swore, "As long as you stay with me, my destiny."


End file.
